Exploring The Accidental World of Accidentally Wes Anderson
No. 12
With Wally Koval
from Accidentally Wes Anderson
Written by Nathan Okuley
Written by Nathan Okuley

Wes Anderson has always been one of my favorite filmmakers. I love the way every frame feels like he spent an unreasonable amount of time caring about it. Admittedly, when I first came across Accidentally Wes Anderson, I wasn't just impressed, I was a little envious I hadn’t thought of it myself. Wally and Amanda Koval had built an entire world around a way of seeing I had always felt but never named, and they had done it by accident.

Eventually, in 2021, I met Wally through a collaboration on brand strategy, and he has since become a dear friend. In this written conversation, he reflects on the philosophy behind AWA, the Community with a capital C that shaped it, and what happens when an accident becomes a life's work.

NO
We've all seen AWA on Instagram or on a bookshelf in our local bookstore. How the heck did this even start?
WK
Would you believe me if I said it was all an accident? AWA started on a whim with zero intention of growing beyond a personal travel bucket list for me and Amanda (my wife and cofounder). It was simply a place to collect destinations that felt transportive — places I hoped we might visit someday, or at least dream about. I didn’t even tell anyone I was starting the account.

Early on, a small group of people found the account and it turned into a travel book club. We’d share little historical details, architectural quirks, and fun facts. That spirit hasn’t really changed. Even as the Community (always with a capital C!) has grown the core idea remains the same: curiosity first.

What’s been surprising are the real connections we’ve made. We’ve built meaningful friendships with people we’ve never even met IRL. And slowly, through events, travels, and collaborations, we’re turning more of those digital connections into real-world ones. That part definitely wasn’t part of the original “plan,” because I guess there wasn’t one to begin with.
NO
AWA has a distinct visual tone. Why do you think people respond so strongly to that aesthetic?
WK
There are two parts to every AWA scene. Visually, I think a lot of what defines it is subjective, and that is part of the beauty of it all. While many photos adhere to some general characteristics of symmetry, color palette, perhaps a touch of nostalgia, there is always something you can’t really put your finger on, but you “know it when you see it”. 
It is a rare place where you can find conversation around a topic that is overwhelmingly positive.
Wally Koval AWA
The other equally, if not more important, piece is the story behind the facade. The history, the architecture, the quirky individual that put the place on the map. AWA is a unique combination of beauty, substance, and context. It is a rare place where you can find conversation around a topic that is overwhelmingly positive.
NO
What makes an image a “feel” AWA? Certain framing, symmetry, color?
WK
There is so much subjectivity to this so I think we are better off starting with what does NOT make an AWA photo. Shooting from an angle breaks the spell 9 times out of 10. The same goes for shooting from above or below unless you’re directly above or below (like a drone shot directly overhead). Perspective is probably the first filter.


From there, symmetry is definitely the strongest anchor, but it is not absolute.
Centering?? your subject is often the easiest way to scratch that itch, but you have a lot of flexibility here. Using the rule of thirds you can push your subject to the left or right and sometimes come out with a better version of the image than if they were centered. The image just needs to feel balanced and intentional rather than casual.
To get into the nitty gritty, there are other elements that can definitely elevate an image. A clear blue sky, soft clouds, a rotary phone or some other touch of analog. A well-timed human presence helps a lot, like an old man crossing in front of a doorway, or someone framed perfectly within the scene.


Technology on the other hand is typically difficult to incorporate into an AWA shot. Kiosks with ipads? Not AWA. A row of coin-operated viewfinders? Very AWA. Plastic dividers in the diner? Not AWA. A plastic covered weathered message board at the local community center? Very AWA.

There is no rigid rubric but there is a consistent hierarchy: perspective first, then composition, then the elements within the frame. The technical pieces get you close, but the feeling is what ultimately defines it. And if you are not sure, take a bunch of shots of the same scene, go back and review them and consider which one might be the most AWA. As long as you’re not shooting on film, it won't cost you much to overshoot.
NO
Is there an emotional core?Something that goes deeper than the visuals?
WK
At its core, AWA is asserting that the world is open to everyone. Beauty is not reserved for far-flung destinations or expensive itineraries. It exists everywhere, often much closer than we think, in the places we unintentionally overlook. You don’t need a passport, a plan, or even a vehicle to start exploring. What matters is how you choose to see it. We believe in curiosity over credentials. In slowing down enough to notice the details. In that sense, travel becomes less about distance and more about perspective.

The
Community?? is quite diverse. It is made up of such a cross section of individuals from all over the world — from those who are interested in architecture, or inspiration for their next Adventure, to those that are utilizing our feed as a mood board for their next interior design project. But mostly I believe our Community is made up of people who are seeking a moment of delight, and hopefully walk away with a smile and a new interesting tidbit they didn’t know before.
NO
You said Community always has a capital C. What’s the story behind capitalizing it?
WK
It is one of the most important distinctions we make. An audience implies a one-way exchange where we share, they consume. A Community is much different because it is about dialogue. It is participatory. They shape where we go, what we explore, and how this project evolves.


Treating them as an “audience” would be a disservice to what they have built alongside us. This has never felt like something we are broadcasting “at people,” it is something we are building with them and without really thinking about it, I have been treating it that way since I started on Instagram nearly 10 years ago. From early back-and-forth interactions in the comments and DMs, sharing insights about destinations and travels, those conversations directly shaped our first Adventures - and they continue to shape everything we do today.

Over time, we’ve developed a bit of a shared language internally. If we were to build an AWA glossary, it would include terms like Secret Link, Banger, and Super Adventurer.
NO
What’s the risk-reward of being so tethered to one person’s aesthetic?
WK
The risk is clear. When you anchor a brand to a specific aesthetic orbit, especially one culturally associated with a single filmmaker like Wes Anderson,?? you invite comparison. You risk being seen as derivative. You risk creative constraint. You risk the audience assuming there is only a single lens through which you see the world.

The reward, however, is clarity. Instant recognition. A point of entry. Referencing a familiar aesthetic creates a shared language. It gives people access to design, architecture, and travel that might otherwise feel niche or academic. What begins as “that looks like a scene from a Wes Anderson film” often evolves into a deeper appreciation for a place, history, and color on their own terms.
What I like about what you
do is that it’s not so much
like what I do.
Wes Anderson
What has allowed us to avoid the downside is evolution. If you imagine the aesthetic as a dartboard, we may have started at the bullseye with perfectly pink facades that feel straight out of The Grand Budapest Hotel,?? but over time we moved outward. We tested boundaries. We listened to the Community. We leaned further into storytelling and context. The frame became wider.

To quote something Wes himself shared with us: “What I like about what you do is that it’s not so much like what I do.” It is less about imitation and more about cultivating a way of seeing. The aesthetic is an entry point, not the end goal and I think the key is evolution. If the aesthetic becomes a starting point rather than a ceiling, the tether becomes a launch line rather than a leash.
NO
That’s great. You’ve done an amazing job balancing admiration with authorship.
WK
I think admiration is recognizing something compelling while authorship is deciding what you do with it. We are not recreating Mendl’s boxes,?? but instead searching for real life places that might carry a similar aesthetic, telling those stories, and building a Community around that shared way of seeing. The books, the exhibitions, the partnerships, the voice — they’re all shaped for and by the rudder that the Community has become.

Over time, the reference point has become less central. The storytelling, the curation, the perspective and most importantly listening to the Community are what define it now.
NO
When you think about the Community (capital C!), what have you learned about how people experience and share beauty today?
WK
Next year will be our 10 year anniversary, which is still wild to say. Over the years, the way people experience and share beauty has shifted dramatically. AWA came up during an era of beautiful Instagram photos paired with vague captions and a fair amount of gatekeeping. Personally I couldn’t stand it as I wanted to know where these places were. That frustration was part of the impetus for starting AWA in the first place.

I think people want participation over perfection. Beauty today is less about exclusivity and more about contribution. When someone shares a symmetrical post office in a small town or a pastel apartment block in their neighborhood, they are not just consuming an aesthetic, they are joining a conversation. That participation creates a demand for context. A beautiful facade might stop the scroll, but the story is what makes people stay. The history, the architect, the reason the building is that color, those details turn an image into something lasting. And the Community does not just consume that context, they help build it. For themselves and for others.
NO
With social shifting so rapidly, how are you thinking about the protecting and growing Community now?
WK
The number one rule is building on your own land. Ever since we initially found success on ‘rented land’ (the social platforms) we have been focused on migrating members of the Community to our website and newsletter, the channels we control. The goal? Remove the third party. Remove the algorithm. Build a direct relationship where it’s on us to keep attention by simply delivering content people genuinely want, rather than constantly trying to win it by gaming a feed. That shift reduces pressure and sharpens focus, ultimately allowing us to prioritize what feels most relevant and stay closer to the kind of storytelling we actually want to do.
NO
Do you ever feel like you’re expected to be more “Wes” than Wes Anderson himself?
WK
There is a concept I love called wabi-sabi — finding beauty in imperfection. Wes Anderson builds his scenes with an eye toward precision. Every object has a purpose. Everything is carefully placed within the frame. It is deliberate and controlled. When you turn that lens onto the real world, though, you find something different. We are not curating a set before taking a photo. We might wait for the right person to pass through the frame or for the light to hit a facade just right, but we are capturing what already exists. The crooked sign, the faded paint, the unexpected detail, that is part of the appeal.

There is a reason we are called “Accidentally” Wes Anderson. The project itself started by accident, and it has grown with plenty of imperfections along the way. That is not something we try to hide. It is actually something we are very vocal about. We’re real people with real imperfections of our own, and I think owning up to those things publicly — in conversations, interviews, and in the comments — has helped build a closer relationship with the Community and trust that we are all figuring this out together. The beauty is in discovering moments that feel cinematic without forcing them to be.
NO
What does your creative process look like these days?
WK
As someone with a constantly dwindling attention span and a low tolerance for inauthentic content, I am the self-proclaimed “lowest common denominator.” If you can grab my attention and get me to lean in, you have something. In many ways, the process has become more structured behind the scenes and more intuitive creatively. We are always looking for new ways to tell stories across different mediums, and we try to bring a beginner's mindset to every project. 

This is not some big corporate operation. It is a few friends and family in a room sharing a vision to inspire and give back to a Community that provides so much delight to us and to one another. From a production standpoint, that is where we bring in experts. We are a tiny team of four, but we collaborate with incredibly talented friends across creative and production fields. The ideas often start intuitively, but the execution requires structure. So it is forever a work in progress and something we are continually actively working on.
NO
You’ve created a lot of events and real-world moments, can you tell us about the process or an experience that stands out?
WK
It is wild for me to say that we have welcomed more than one million paying visitors through the doors of AWA events and exhibitions on five continents over the past five years. That is nothing to shake a stick at for a tiny team our size. All of our exhibitions are something we are beyond proud of, but the one that sticks out the most is absolutely our first pop-up in October 2020. 

Our first book was about to be released, and we wanted to do something to celebrate - at a time when the world was largely shut down. The restrictions were pretty clear: no budget, no team, and strict capacity limits.

Our friends at Whalebone Magazine had a space in the West Village (NYC) that had been closed for months. They told us we could use it if we cleaned it out. So me, Amanda, and Morgan got to work. Over 10 days, we built an immersive experience entirely by hand — cutting mountains out of posterboard to match the book cover, hot-gluing cotton balls to empty 2-liter bottles to create clouds, and printing thousands of postcards for visitors to send anywhere in the world. It felt important to give people a way to reconnect during a time when that had largely disappeared.
One of the biggest challenges was capacity. Only six people were allowed in at a time, so there was a real risk the experience would stall or the line would fall apart. Instead, the opposite happened, the line wrapped around the block. We had to quickly figure out how to manage pacing and energy outside the space just as much as inside it. Friends and family stepped in to help by working the door, talking to people in line, and keeping things moving.

That became the detail I obsessed over most: the story before you even entered. What people were told while waiting, how the experience was framed, how to build anticipation without over-explaining. I wanted people to understand what they were about to walk into without feeling directed.

Over 10 days, we welcomed nearly 7,000 people and sent more than 5,000 postcards around the world, which ended up costing us far more in postage than we expected. It cost us a few thousand dollars and a lot of sweat equity, but it created a kind of momentum we could feel in real time. It was the first moment where this shifted from something we were making into something people were actively showing up for and shaping alongside us.
NO
Any dream projects you’re thinking about?
WK
There are two activations on the vision board.

First, a permanent AWA exhibition. Something museum-adjacent, ideally in New York, where you’d move through a series of immersive spaces tied to real places, with elements like a postcard station, a phone to hear narrated stories, a vintage photo booth, a small cinema showing some of our adventures. The idea is simple: draw people in with something beautiful, then layer in the story so you learn something without even realizing it.

Second, the AWA BNB. I’d want to buy a home in a historic district — like in Wilmington, Delaware — and fill it with pieces that each have a story. Nothing generic. Guests would get a map and a “golden card” that unlocks curated experiences. A reserved seat here, a behind-the-scenes moment there.

Both are about creating something that feels a little unexpected, but still approachable. Small moments that add up to something memorable.
NO
You’re doing a lot. Do you see AWA as a brand, a media company, or something else?
WK
Brand. Studio. Curatorial platform. Events company. Media organization. Community platform. In different moments, it looks like all of those things.AWA is a mix, shifting and combining aspects of who we are depending on the project.

What it is not is an “influencer” (not that there’s anything wrong with that!). That label implies a transactional relationship with an audience. What we have built is participatory, long-term, and layered. There is strategy behind it. There is production behind it. There is curation and context behind it. If you find a better word that combines all those things, please let me know!
NO
Are there things you’re doing today that AWA of 2016 would have embraced?
WK
We reject limitations today. We are not timidly exploring the outer rungs of the bullseye, we are searching for gold in them. We are testing the boundaries constantly. You cannot hold things too preciously and I think we did that a lot in the early days. We were afraid to break this thing that we had accidentally created. Today, we are actively trying to adjust, evolve, break and rebuild. If we don’t, we will plateau and die. The name only feels like a ceiling if you treat it that way. For us, it’s a starting point, not a boundary.
Creating a Big Mess Out of Everything
No. 11
With Nigel Ewan and Dempsey Ewan and Cole Londeree and Alan Alanis
from Big Mess
Category